


Hannibal Microfic

by aphrodite_mine



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/F, Microfic, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-07 13:06:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1900059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphrodite_mine/pseuds/aphrodite_mine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>as requested on tumblr, so they shall be</p><p>--</p><p>1 - Abigail gen<br/>2 - Margot/Alana<br/>3 - Alana/Freddie<br/>4 - Freddie/Margot<br/>5 - Alana/Beverly<br/>6 - Freddie/Margot<br/>7 - Alana gen</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "maybe I just don't feel what others feel"

**Author's Note:**

> Requests from majesdane, TheKatValentine, and anonymous. Thank you.

You’re shaking, but when he tells you to get back you do. He tells you and he tells you and his voice melts together with his like hot marrow from a bone; you take it, desperate for sustinance.

You’re always shaking, and you’re always hungry.


	2. "knife's edge"

Despite being by far the most culinarily-inclined of anyone she’s dated, and generally falling on the strictly a solo artist side of that spectrum, Hannibal has taken to offering Alana a knife so she can sous chef their dinners together. “You seemed to take quite an interest in my patient,” Hannibal hums, almost conversationally, “Margot Verger?”

The little twitch Alana’s body makes upon hearing her name is unmissable and unmistakable. “No more than any other person you’ve introduced me to,” Alana lies, eyes on the green pepper she is dicing. In the silence, the knife hits the cutting board with ever-more-urgent thuds.


	3. "argument"

Freddie is perched, knees up, on a chair in Alana’s hospital room, unable to wait, it seems, for the greiving (and healing) period to be over. “Abigail’s integral to this, Alana, absolutely vital. Hannibal—” (Alana flinches, then winces at the pain the flinch causes) “—is built on lies. What better to disarm him than the truth?”

"If truth is the goal," Alana hisses, "perhaps the weapon would be better off out of your hands."


	4. "innocence"

"And you played no role in your brother’s… disfigurement?"

"I am as horrified by what has happened as anyone, Ms. Lounds."

"You proport to be wholly innocent, then?"

Margot’s hand curls around her coffee cup, sure and steady enough that Freddie can imagine that hand in other contexts—holding a weapon low at her side, wrapping around a neck.

"You’ll have to work a little harder to get the quote you’re seeking," Margot says, voice like cold steel. 

"I love a challenge."


	5. "charasmatic and suave"

"Sure you don’t want to step outside, Dr. Bloom? It’s pretty grizzly in there."

Alana runs a hand down the front of her blouse, insulted, and yet oddly touched. “Agent Katz, I promise that I can handle myself. At crime scenes.”


	6. "anything for a story"

Pink nipple peaked against rough rose petal tongue. Fingers tipped with metallic polish, twisted and pulling chestnut hair, pulling begging, crying. “Please,” Freddie pants, body like licks of flame against the marble countertop.

"Please," Margot echoes, her tone teasing, her teeth scraping already sensitive flesh. "Finally, truth to your requests."


	7. "kill somebody"

Alana Bloom has always believed in the power of communication and self-realization, but sometimes, words aren’t enough. Sometimes, words are like cottonballs when what you need are missiles, bullets, knives (explosions, shots, and deep, deep cuts).

And she’s realized a whole hell of a lot about herself, lately.


End file.
